


Gift of the Protector: Snow Angels

by Edge_Feyera (SoIar)



Series: Gift of the Protector [4]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cute, Drama & Romance, End of the World, Epilogue, F/M, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, One True Pairing, Post-Finale, Post-Series, Psionics, Psychic Abilities, Relationship(s), Romance, Snow, Telekinesis, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoIar/pseuds/Edge_Feyera
Summary: Young man and Gardevoir spend their first Christmas together.





	1. Of Colder Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> This constitutes a swan song, an ode to a series and homage to the adventure of two characters, now complete. Consider it a post-series epilogue and the fulfillment of a promise made.

# Part 1: Of Colder Seasons

> A trail dusted with fresh snow is my path. 
> 
> Though mesmerizing white sparkles may conceal the world below,
> 
> Though winter’s cold breath may rattle my bones,
> 
> And though the dark woodlands may threaten to whelm me,
> 
> I’ll always find my way home with her at my side.

* * *

 

“This is…!”  With haste, he scrambled over to the window.  The whole world was awash in snow.  From inside the comfortable lodge he heard the wind whistling through the tall evergreens.  In unison, the large trees swayed and danced.  Conducted by chilled gusts, they playfully swung in the winds as his breaths gradually fogged the glass.  Plumes of powdered snow fluffed into the air, floating off as the pines’ ice coated peaks rustled in the wind.  Placing his hands on the teak windowsill, he felt a cold draft.  It was hard to tell if there was any cold air coming through the window or if it was merely the idea of coldness making him feel this way. 

Sana, at his side, seemed to radiate a glowing warmth, felt through their bond.  It was enough to make him smile.  _“Chris, it’s so beautiful!”_ she said.  Each excited breath, every gasp of wonder, she truly felt enthusiastic.  Her optimism was contagious, as was often the case with her emotions.

“This scene.  It’s incredible.”  Trying to find the words to describe it failed, he simply said her name.  “Sanaria.”

 _“What is it?”_ she asked the window, before tilting her head to face him.  Her petite mouth opened ajar, a look of confusion on her pale face.  _“You only say my full name when it’s important!”_

Silently, he locked eyes with her.  They were a lustrous cherry, with gracefully slopping eyelids.  Her lengthy and dark lashes shivered as she refrained from blinking.  Gazing into her eyes, he became lost.  What had he meant to say?  Thankfully, it took him only a moment to remember.  “You remember when I told you we’d be going on an adventure?”

 _“Yeah!”_  Sana smiled brightly.  _“Of course I remember.  I wanted to go with you.  After everything—”_ she paused in soft contemplation _“—I could not imagine any other way.”_

His shallow grin belied a sense of fear and uncertainty.  Perhaps he did not want to go with her at first.  Surely, he didn’t expect to be traveling with her for this long.  Nevertheless, he knew one thing: it had all happened for a reason.  Not a reason that could be measured or predicted, but a reason that had to be felt.  Experienced.  And on this cold wintery day in Mahogany Town, that was exactly the way he felt about everything between the two of them.  He just did not know how to adequately express it to her.  Not even his heart could fully guide his sentiments.  Despite growing closer to her, this still all felt new.   As his mind stumbled over what to say next, he decided to be forthright with her.  He had not been genuine for so long, and it was slowly eating him up inside now that he knew they would be together.  His lips formed the words, “…I know that was a while ago, but when I said it I never thought we’d be seeing snow like this.”

_“What do you mean, Chris?”_

He pointed at his chest and then to hers before tapping the frosted glass pane beside them.  “Together.  I never thought this whole thing…” he backtracked, replacing the somewhat callous, disassociated words, “— I mean us —would last long enough, to actually see snow with one another.”

She brought her hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed.  _“Aw!  You’re upset it’s lasted this long?”_ replied Sana jokingly.  _“Or are you having trouble with something you feel?”_

Her ability to read him was uncanny.  “No,” he said shaking his head.

 _“Okay.”_   Sana leaned in, inspecting his face. 

“That’s a little uncomfortable,” he said, trying to stay steady while she blitzed him with her close stare.

Curiously, her eyes suddenly widened, as if she had noticed something.  _“You’re suuuuure.  Right?”_

“Positive,” he replied, unsure if she would believe him.

Sana adjusted a loose lock of her mint green hair over her ear.  It had gotten messy at some point while by the window.  Twirling it round her finger, she said rather slowly, _“That’s good.  I’m…happy.”_

“Me too.  I can feel that you’re happy, Sanaria,” he said, acknowledging the faint glow of peachy rose emanating from her core.  Her heart spoke to him like that.  Always in colors.  Always as emotions made just barely physical through their connection.

Sana bowed her head.  _“I know you can.”_

Taking his index finger away from the cold window, he dragged his arm lazily through the air towards her.  With a light touch, he helped her place her disordered hair back into place behind her ear.  The silken, smooth strands of hair felt like electricity against his palm.  Mumbling,

“There,” he rested the edge of his hand along her scalp above her right ear.  Though he did not want to leave this nest of warmth, he gradually lowered his hand, taking care to tickle two of her cartilage ear clippings.

Sana flushed like a rosette arrangement beneath her large eyes; swirls of warm colors bestowing her pale cheeks with tincture.  With a jolt of excitement, she exclaimed, _“I can’t believe how pure and white it is!  It’s just like magic!”_

He nodded.  “Psychic powers are like magic too.  Though I’m sure there’s gotta be an explanation out there, suitable for my research.”

 _“Always research this, research that, you never change,”_ Sana sniggered.  _“Chris, are all humans as obsessed with breaking down the world?”_

“The first thing you do if you don’t understand something, is try to understand it.  That’s why…”  His voice trailed off.  He wanted to tell her that was not the reason he felt drawn to her.  Yet this façade, him, a talented researcher and her as his assistant, had kept the two of them from the unmentionable attraction time and time again.  And so, the two had spun around in their strange orbit, always together, hardly meeting.  Until now.

 _“I guess, if we understood it, we could make snow.  That would be incredible!”_ she said with a lighthearted cheer.

He sighed in relief.  “You think so?  Ice types can freeze water, turn precipitation into snow.  Nifty.  But this—” he gestured outside “—is really a sign of winter.”

 _“It is?”_ she asked, straightening her posture.  She was nearly as tall as him, her eyes reached nose height.  Sometimes she would float off the ground slightly to compensate for the difference.  _“You’ve seen a lot of winter?”_

“Oh, that’s right, you’re from the tropics of Hoenn,” he said.  She always did have a faint scent of hibiscus.  “There’s hardly any winter there.  I grew up with it every year in Kanto.  Johto gets a fair share as well, probably more up in these mountains.  In general, snow’s associated with winter and the season.”

She raised a brow from under her curly green bangs.  _“The season?”_

“Yeah.  Snow, lights, Christmas—” he caught his breath.  “Last week we made to Mahogany Town, that was the eighteenth.  Oh wow, isn’t that something?”

_“What is it?  You look really pleased.”_

Shaking his head, he said, “I knew it was cold outside, but I didn’t think we’d be getting a White Christmas.”

_“A White Christmas?”_

“When it’s Christmas and snowing!”  The name seemed self-explanatory, but he still had to clarify for her.  She still didn’t understand all the human traits and customs.  Though their travels had revealed much about their respective species, it was always a work in process.

She shook her head and her green bangs fell out of place once again.  _“I don’t get it.”_

“Don’t worry too much,” he said, feeling rejuvenated.  “There isn’t much to get besides that it’s rare when it snows during Christmastime.  Most people don’t like the rain, but when it gets cold enough the rain turns to snow, and magically the whole day becomes special.”

_“Wow, then this really is amazing!”_

He couldn’t help but smile at her reaction.  “You think so?” he asked.

_“Yes!  Don’t you, Chris?”_

He managed to give a mild nod.  “Sure is nice.”

 _“There are so many of them too, dancing over the white ground!”_ she said, spinning her hips to mimic the spiraling motion of the flakes.  Her waist has no exaggerated curves to it; her dress’ top continued into a frilly skirt, with a tapered length and split in the front. 

Watching her dance lightly brought his attention to her body.  He replied, “I haven’t seen snow flurries this large since I was a young boy.”

 _“Really?  How young?”_ she asked eagerly before her tone dropped in worry.  _“You can remember?”_

He took in a long breath, drawing in chilled air from the window as he stared.  He responded, “Yeah.  Now I remember snow.”

_“That’s good.  It would be terrible to forget something as pretty as snow.”_

“I don’t want to forget,” he spoke rather gravely.  He had forgotten much, left so many pieces behind to be here right now with Sana.  “She was even prettier than something like the snow.  But…  Sanaria?”

She faced him and beamed innocently.   _“Yes?”_  

No matter how many times she did that it never grew stale.  It was just subtle enough to reveal her feelings were of the two of them.  He had learned to read feelings, but not nearly as good as her.  However, her feelings were the ones he could read best.  More than anything, he wanted to let her know what he thought about her.  Yet the timing never seemed right.  He had a chance, an opportunity to say that she was prettier than the snow or the memories in his heart.  All of it was true and the very reason the two of them were here together.  Yet anxiety caused his sentiments to falter in their final stages before expression.  “Do you like snow?” he finally asked.

It sounded silly to ask.  Of course she liked snow!  Why else would she be so fascinated?  Sana giggled, taken aback by his unassuming question.   _“What do you mean?”_

He said with a dry laugh, “Do you like how it looks on the ground or in the sky?”

She knew what he meant right away.  _“It’s like a great big ballroom gown that the earth gets to wear!  So enchanting!  I can’t even see the green of the forest under all the beautiful snow!”_

“You would see it that way,” he said, thoughtfully adjusting his shirt’s collar to wipe the bit of sweat that had formed on his neck.  “You don’t wear a great big billowing gown.  But others do, and influence the world around them with their glamor.  I learned why the final evolution don such elegant clothes.”  His expression turned serious as he looked her over.  “Sanaria, I’m glad you don’t ever have to let anyone else choose what you wear.”

 _“What makes you say that, mister scientist?”_ she teased.   _“You think being –impractical– is a good thing?”_

“Now when did I say that?” he responded, his serious expression thawing.  He knew he could protect her.  And that was exactly what he would do.

 _“This dress, huh?”_ she asked rubbing the material along her abdomen.  She outlined her hips through the motion; were she a human girl, she would have been considered as thin as a rail. 

Sana’a garments may have not been the way Gardevoir were depicted in the encyclopedia, but the similarities were numerous.  They were similar to silk and velvet, at least those were the closest naturally worn materials he could compare it to.  But if felt otherworldly to the touch and would send tingles up the spine; the garbs were capable of transferring sensation straight through.  Sana’s skirt and top were a creamy coconut white, with dainty fluffs of rounded wrinkles round her hips.  It was adjustable, about as flexible as she could imagine it.  Back on the islands in the Southern Sea, she’d wore more comfortable attire, a skirt that dangled only midway down her thin white leg-guard stockings.  In warmer climates, she simply found it more comfortable to wear her clothing folded up.  Folding was an invisible way to reduce the length of her garments; she explained it the same way she explained teleportation: having two far away parts meet together in a kiss.  Now that it was it was colder, she had unhooked the clasps causing the dress to become more elegant.  By no means was it the level of wedding ornateness, but he had never seen her like this before.  In its current state, her outfit consisted of a skirt with the front reaching halfway down her legs and a long trailing back, barely touching the floor.

He raised his hand and lightly placed it on her gently sloped shoulder, noticing that one of her straps was slightly off kilter.  “What other dress would I be talking about?” 

 _“Oh, I just thought now that it’s different you might not recognize me.  I still get nervous since it’s so different from when we first met.”_  

“That’s why.  It’s yours.  It represents who you are now.  Not the way you used to be.  Not under anyone’s control but yourself.”  With a smile, he brought the strap closer to her neck’s base.  “I think it looks pretty on you the way you like to wear it.”

Feeling warm inside, she quickly brought her hands up to her chest to touch the glossy rubicund heart shard emerging from a thinly cut slit in her fitted clothing, dividing her two small breasts.  _“You…really think so?  I can wear it any way that I want to?”_

His hand trembled, knowing he had cleverly brought her to a state of embarrassment concerning his feelings for her.  She still hadn’t gotten over him —a human, and a pragmatist at that — being affectionate towards her.  They first met under rather hostile terms nearly three years ago when he was barely eighteen.  But then again, nothing about their relationship was normal.  To complicate it all, nothing about their deep history was pristine.

“I know so,” he said.  “And that’s a fact.”  He adamantly nodded, as if no one would dare say otherwise.

She looked down at herself again.  The cold window next to them served as a partial mirror, reflecting more than anything else their different silhouettes.  To really come to terms with the fact they were together.  They both were different species.  It had been so difficult for her to see herself as purely that way, or him as purely that way.  In these moments of quietness, she often wondered how similar these thoughts were to his.

 _“R—really?”_ she said, stammering and fuddling with her dress’ waistline.  _“That’s awfully nervy of you.”_

“Didn’t mean to get you all flustered,” he replied.  Then he shrugged, desperately trying to cool down the inflamed tension welling between them.

Sana sighed.  The concept of him being able to overcome the differences between them made her heart flutter.  But there would always be restrictions.  Always challenges.  And always adversity.  It was times like these, when she stood next to him in a safe room, that she finally felt at ease.  Protected.  Seeing the snow outside, and hearing the noise dampened, helped encourage this strange new security for her.  The lodge itself was not the Persian Suites, but it had the amenities of a small working fireplace, a granite-top kitchenette, and a set of rich cedar furniture.  The aroma in the air was woodsy mixed with charcoal.

“Yeah,” he assured her.  “It took a long time to realize.”

_“Realize what?”_

“That we could…never mind.”

Sana grappled with her hands, looking for something—anything—to hold onto.  _“Tell me!”_ she pleaded.  She tugged on the base of a leather vest he wore.  Completely synthetic, the black material was loose and short, barely reaching past his waistline.  It didn’t fully close, revealing a bland neck shirt underneath through a gap about a palm’s width wide.  This opening had two hardy belt straps to keep the fabric close to his body while active in the field.  The sash tips matched the two buttons pinning down the vest’s collar.  The sleeves were cuffed and sealed with a metal clasp, exposing his scrawny forearms.  Typically they were covered by his jacket and trainer equipment, but he’d taken his wrist guards off earlier when they had arrived here in order to massage his sore muscles underneath.  It had been quite a hike from Goldenrod after all.

“That we could get along…make this work—” he said, giving her a signature expression of innocence to complement his subtlety “—despite our differences.”

 _“Differences?”_ she asked.  Her hold on his vest was rather firm.  _“I forgot how different we were.”_

A faint, dry laugh slipped from his lips.  He really was different in most ways save one.  He peered down at where her eyes had traveled.  His heart shard.  A Gardevoir’s heart.  Buried in his chest, a constant reminder of his relationship with this Pokemon.  An exact replica of her own rubicund source of life.  Possessing a thin edge, the heart shard itself projected out of the navy cotton tunic he wore about a palm’s distance at its furthest point.  Of course, he always had to vertically snip the chest of his clothes with a pair of fabric scissors, or risk ruining his clothes.

“I know it wasn’t always like this…  I know it didn’t have to be like this, Sana.  And I know it hurt you for it to be like this.  I — Goddammit! — I didn’t mean for it to happen like this—”

 _“No.  You shouldn’t hurt yourself over it,”_ she replied, stretching her hand out to grace the trainer’s heart with the tips of her fingers. _“Don’t beat yourself up.  You didn’t know better.  Not even I knew this would happen.”_

“I never knew this side of life—” He fought the urge to lay a hand on it “—to think…  I screwed up.”  The heart was between the vest’s two straps, projecting straight out of his sternum bone.  From there it radiated heat, projected and retrieved emotion, in perfect synchronization with his internal heart’s every beat.  Oftentimes he wondered how much of a hold over him it had, whether it made him a monster beyond in the eyes of fellow humans.

_“Aren’t you glad that you were given a chance to though?  To feel life?  When you could have died.”_

He scratched his head, massaging his scalp from underneath the forest of thick auburn hair.  “Y-Yeah,” he said unsteadily at first, “it’s my chance to make things right.”

 _“You don’t have to prove anything to me.  I told you I wanted to be with you.  You know that.  You’ve known that since we—”_ she said, her hushed tone trailing off into empty space.

“Yeah, but I fought things for so long, Sanaria.  Fought me.  Fought you.  Fought the world.  To what avail?”  he asked the snow outside.

_“I don’t know.  But this is the way that it is now.  And you’ve come a long way in accepting it.”_

“A long way,” he said sarcastically.  His arrogance brought him to where he was.  He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with.  “Sana, you’re either a saint or stupid for sticking around,” he said with laugh.

She smirked.  _“I still like it that you know how to laugh.”_

“I’m sure it’ll get boring for you.  I don’t have a ton of emotions like you do.  Can’t comprehend most of ‘em either.”

_“Well no matter how many emotions are zipping through your head, you always have a smile that can come out.  That’s what you do have.”_

He slowly asked, “You really think so?”

She crossed her arms, and blew her hair out from her face.  _“Why else would I tell you something like that, silly?”_

He laughed again, this time more openly.  She started to laugh along with him.  The entire room began to feel warmer.  “Well, now that you know my secret,” he said, “what do you say we go outside and check out the snow?”

She beamed wildly and grasped his hand lovingly, _“Okay, but on one condition!”_

“What’s that?” he asked, half expecting her to inquire about how cold it was and how they could stay warm.

_“You have to tell me all about Christmas!”_

That was Sanaria.  Always more concerned with things less practical.  She was about as inquisitive as he was, albeit in a different fashion.  While he was a researcher, often concerned with facts and statistics, she took her knowledge applying it to a myriad of topics that could do nothing but expand her understanding of humanity.  She was consistently fascinated by it all.  And when he looked at it that way, the two of them really weren’t that dissimilar.

“Okay, but I don’t really know too much about Christmastime, Sana,” he griped.  “Never really got into the holiday too much.  Not after mom passed.”

_“What do you mean?  You just explained it!  There’s snow and it’s extra special!”_

“I know.  But there’s more to Christmas than snow.”

Sanaria put her arm on his shoulder.  _“Really?”_ she asked pressing close to him.

He lost interest in explaining it.  Suddenly she was all that concerned him.

She smiled and nudged him with her cheek.  The warmth of her flush exuded to his cheek and the soft cartilage of her ear’s points poked the side of his head, a small peck of endearment.  He proceeded to hold onto her tighter, wrapping his arms around her back.

“Really,” he whispered in her ear.  “C’mon.  Let’s go exploring.”

Melodically, she hummed to herself.  Those heartfelt pitches of noise could be felt at this close range.  They were like tiny wave crests of music to his ears and body.  One following another, in beautiful symmetric pace.

 _“Mmm.  Okay,”_ she said quietly straightening her posture, but not retreating.

“Yeah, but it has gotten a fair deal colder since when we arrived,” he admitted.  “Hopefully we can stay warm.”

 _“I’m sure we can keep each other warm,”_ she replied, her hands interlocking with his.

There was an excited tingle as he held her hands.  “Okay,” he said evenly at first.  “But.”

 _“What?”_ she asked, recoiling her palm in concern. 

He did not let her bring his hands to her waist, and their holding broke.  “As embarrassing as it sounds, when I was a kid, I wasn’t ever allowed to stay out for a long time in the snow.”

_“Why’s that?”_

He clenched his knuckles into two stubborn fists.  “Something about catching cold.”

  _“Catching a cold, from being in the cold?”_   Sana traced the contour of his closed hands with her glare.  _“That expression.  How very human.”_

“Don’t give me that,” he said with a groan.  “That’s why it’s called catching a cold!”

She poked him.  _“You never caught me.  How do you expect me to believe you’d catch a cold?”_

“Witty,” he grumbled.  “Haven’t you ever gotten sick?”

 _“Not from a cold.”_   Sana rocked her head softly. _“But I would like to one day if it’s a new experience.”_

“Are you crazy?  No one wants to get a cold.  Being sick sucks.”

Sana’s eye glowed as she pried his mind ever so slightly.  It did not hurt; the sensation was quite warm.  _“What’s it like having a scratch in your throat?  A runny nose?  And Sneasels too!”_   She started to laugh.  _“Looks like I experienced my first cold just fine.”_

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he said sourly.  “And its “sneezes” not Sneasels.”

 _“Whoops.”_   Sana smiled and the glow disappeared.  _“Guess you were thinking of those while I was learning about colds through your experience.”_

“Synapses must’ve crossed, similar words,” he suggested.  “Those little crooks are nothing but trouble.”

 _“Unsurprising.  They’re dark types.  They hunt psychics.”_   Sana frowned.

“A gang of them live close by.  Lady at the front desk said to be careful because they were expanding their territory from the Ice Path.  Figured thought they lived further up in the mountains, away from people.  Abandoned spots on the map, like Snowpoint.”

 _“Snow—point?”_ she repeated.   _“What…err…where’s that?”_

“It’s a small town far to the north.”  He pointed towards the distant white mountains beyond the snow trees.  “All the way in the Sinnoh region.”

_“Sinnoh?”_

“That’s right.  If I had a globe I could show you.  In Snowpoint it always snows, all year round.”

Sana’s expression was equal parts concern and suspicion.  _“Always?”_

“Pretty much.”

Sana sighed. _“There aren’t any flowers that can live there.”_

“Probably not.  Way too harsh.  Botany isn’t my specialty so I’m not sure, Sana.  I don’t know anything about the plant life there.  It’s like another world to me.”

_“Another world to you?”_

“Yeah.”  He padded the small timepiece on the table adjacent to the window.  “Something I don’t understand.  Something I haven’t experienced yet.  I only know the stories.”

_“What kinds of stories?”_

“Oh, you know, Christmas stories.”

She didn’t know.  Her blank expression said it all.

“They’re for kids mostly.”  He scratched his head.  “Like I don’t know, one’s about a plump man from Snowpoint who travels in a big red sleigh, with a trusty Delibird at his side, delivering gifts to good little boys and girls.”

Sana chuckled.  _“You can’t be serious!”_

“Of course, Stantler and Sawsbuck pull his sleigh.  And if you’re naughty, his Torkoal dumps coal in your stocking instead of presents.  The big guy is one hell of a trainer.  He’s even got legendary friends to help him cheat time and fill everyone’s stockings with gifts in one night.”

Sana looked down at her legs, imagining her white stockings filled with presents.  _“That’s such a marvelous story!”_

“You think so?”

 _“I think it’s so nice someone will give you presents for being good.”_   She grinned.  _“Gardevoir have all kinds of stories like that too, you know?”_

He raised a brow.  “About Christmas?”

_“No.  But similar tales about gift-giving.”_

“I’d like to hear about them.”

_“Truth is, a lot of them are written down in the language of the forest, crafted by our ancestors.  Only the ancient ones, those with the power to control the universe through their hearts can speak it.”_

“Mmm.  Ancient stuff.”  He briefly closed his eyes.  Contemplating.  Reminiscing.  The truth was too difficult to explain, yet her sense of wonder made him feel less guilty for holding back.  So she would not suspect his ruminations to be as weighty as they were, he quickly mused, “That could be interesting.”

_“I hope you can visit Home one day with me.  It’s beautiful there when the flowers are in bloom.”_

Once again, he felt hesitation.  He knew he had to be strong, and express to her that he had it together.  Even if it meant suppressing his concerns, for the sake of their chance to be together, he had to conquer his fears.  Evenly he spoke.  “I’m sure we will once we’re done with everything.  We can finally relax and do what we want.”

 _“That sounds…nice,”_ Sana said.  Yet she seemed upset by something.  Her eyes revealed her pensiveness.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

_“I was just thinking about what you told me and wondering if the Snowpoint people miss seeing flowers.  They must be very sad; even if they get presents for being good.”_

“It isn’t only people from Snowpoint who get presents.”

_“Huh?”_

“I got presents when I was younger too.  And I lived all the way south in Saffron City.”

 _“What?!”_ she exclaimed.  _“How?”_

He looked down at the hardwood floor.  Then he met her gaze once more.  “Sometimes parents pass along the gifts to their children.  It all works out in the end for everyone.”

 _“Really?  Hmm…so it’s not special for them after all,”_ she murmured. 

He could tell she was thinking intently about something.  “What is it now?” he asked cautiously.

_“Without flowers, and without presents, they have nothing special…”_

“You’re too compassionate,” he said.  “Lighten up.”

 _“I can’t help that!”_  Sana protested childishly.

He dipped his head, trying to think of any little obscure facts he could think of to comfort her.  “You know, there’s something else they get.  There’s special sparkling snow called Diamond Dust from the peak of Mount Coronet.”

Her eyes brightened as she imagined it.  He had never seen it, so she could not picture it from his memories.  _“Diamond Dust?  That sounds so pretty!”_

“It’s rare though.  Like having a White Christmas here in northern Johto.  Magical when it happens though.”

 _“Wow,”_ she said, rocking her head.   _“I’m happy we can see the snow here.  Together.”_

“I know.  I can feel that,” he replied.  The radiant heat was from her happiness after all.  Happiness that came from being together.  It pushed out the cold.

 _“So what are we waiting for, Slowpoke?!”_ she chuckled.  _“Let’s go outside and see the snow!”_

“Hold on!  Let me put on my boots!”  With a few hops over to the door, he pulled on their worn, but sturdy straps. 

Sana pranced over behind him, silent as a ghost with her light strides.  By the time he had gotten them on she was next to him, with an extended arm.  Taking her hand, she helped him up with a lift, _“There you go!”_

“Thanks,” he told her, picking up a metal key on a chain from a polished cherry wood table next to the door.  It was cold to the touch. 

She held his bicep as he approached the door.  _“Any day now!”_ she remarked with a laugh.

“Yeah.  So, is that everything?”  He gestured to the hook on the wooden wall of the cabin.  “How ‘bout that coat I bought you?”

 _“Yep!”_  Sana twirled the woman’s parka around her body as she spun gracefully into its sleeves.

“Okay,” he said, snatching the small keychain along with his wallet.  “Remember, we can’t, you know, be overly affectionate.”

She shoved him angrily.  _“Stop it,”_ she said embarrassedly.  _“I’m not going to throw myself on you or anything!”_

“Right.”  Opening the solid wood door, he winked at her, “After you then.”

The polite comment made her chuckle as she bounced outside.  The air was clean and crisp.   She could smell the snow in the air.  Gusty winds blew from the valley region in the east, blowing her fluffy lined hood off her head.

 _“Whoa!”_ she exclaimed.  _This wind and snow is so strong!”_

“Must be coming from the Ice Path.”

 _“Where the sneezes live!”_   Sana joked, spinning around so the wind pushed her hood back up.  Or it could have been her psychokinesis at work.  She was subtle when she used her powers to manipulate objects and made it easy to blame on other factors.

“Sneasels…I’m never gonna live this one down.” he said, turning the silver key and locking up.  He held onto the bronze railing, cautiously navigating down the stairs, careful to avoid the frozen patches.  Ahead the street was wide and filled with snow for as far as he could see.  All the lampposts were covered in whiteness.  Long icicles hung from their glowing lanterns.  Cars lined the side streets, their models and emblems all hidden, making them into generic snow-covered vehicles.  Everything covered by the magical substance was hushed, adding to the peaceful charm. Judging by the lack of activity, everyone was either indoors or in the town square. 

Sana ran ahead of him down the sidewalk.  With poise, she skipped along in the snow, finding little difficulty navigating.  Each step felt like she was flying.  _“It is so fluffy!”_ she said whist kicking some of a nearby snow bank with her leg.  Like white smoke, the power plumed up past her knees.

He watched her spin and toss more of the fine particles into the air with her narrow legs while her dress danced along the surface of the snow like an artist’s brush. 

 _“C’mon, what’s the matter?”_ she asked. _“Did you drop something?”_

Squatting, he thought she might detect his motive.  Having so much dancing, she did not realize he had been collecting some snow in his hands.  Swiftly he patted it together.  The snow was still falling, and the flakes were extra tiny.  “Perfect.  Just perfect.”

_“What are you doing?”_

“Oh nothing,” he said, innocently as possible.

Apprehension ran over Sana’s face.  _“I…uhhh….”_

She knew something was amiss.  He felt it.  Her emotions were transmitted directly to him, and there was nothing that he could do to stop them.  At first, it had been difficult, but he had grown more accustomed to it with time.  A constant nudging from linked emotions consistently traversed between the two along a fine psychic tightrope.

He finished packing the light snowball and raised it high like a Pokéball.  With a fling, he lobbed it at her.

 _“HEY!  Waaaah!”_ she exclaimed.

He hadn’t thrown a snowball in years.  But he was still a good shot.  His technique was nothing less than an example of the classic chuck from growing up watching Pokémon Battling All-Stars.

 _“Well—”_ Sana wiped the dusty snow off her parka with a flick of her wrist _“—if that’s how you want to play, mister!”_

“You’re on!” he taunted.

_“You’ll be sorry!”_

Like a commando deep behind enemy lines, he ducked behind a car, and restocked his ammunition.

 _“You better watch out!”_   Sana shouted, forming a packed snowball of her own by means of psychokinesis to lift a glob of snow straight off the ground and into her hand.

Peering out from behind his bunker, he looked just in time to see her fling.  It whistled over his head as he dived back down.  The snow did not hold very well together, scattering a puff of powder overhead.  “Looks like someone’s got weak aim,” he mocked.  “At this rate, I’ll catch you in one more throw!”

 _“Pfft!”_ Sana’s psychic voice haughtily refuted, echoing her irritability in his head.

Wasting no time after seeing she had poor technique by failing to adequately pack the snow, he packed another round from behind cover.  He jeered in mock battle cry, “You’ll have to be a better shot than that, Sanariaaaaaaa!”

Standing up, he chucked another snowball.  This time, a small field barrier had blocked it! 

“Hey, you can’t do that!”

The Reflect wall in front of her shimmered while the wind blew snowflakes into the psychic shield making it more apparent.  The snowball slowly slid off the semitransparent teal crystal lattice, revealing Sana’s glowing ruby eyes under her hood as she posed victoriously behind her barricade.

 _“Aw, why not?”_ she asked.  _“You jealous?”_

“Curses!  That’s cheating!”

 _“Oh!  But you get to throw first?”_  Sana smirked.   _“That doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”_

“You should have known what I was going to do; you’re a psychic after all!” he insisted in a dramatic tone.  “Not my fault if you can’t see the future.”

 _“I can’t see the future!”_   Sana admitted.  Putting her hands on her hips and spreading her elbows in protest, she said, _“I’ve told you a thousand times that it doesn’t work like that!  You of all people should know by now!”_

“I have you now!”  A second snowball he had hidden in his other hand under his coat was his trump card.

 _“Eeep!”_ Sana cried out, putting both her hands in front of her face.  Her barrier faded.

As it lobbed at her, it suddenly changed direction, coming back right at him!  The snowball flew through the air, and he made a quick lunge to dodge it.  Diving into a bank of snow, he managed to avoid getting hit.  The snowball whizzed on overhead.

 _“Looks like you’re covered in snow!”_ she sniggered.

“Least it isn’t your snow,” he grunted as he got to his feet again.  Pushing off with his strong arm, he sprung up quickly.  Just as he got up, he saw Sanaria’s eyes glowing again.  The same way they always did when she used her powers.

Then he felt a cold lump nail him in the back of the head. 

_“Gotcha!”_

“Tricks like that.  Using my own snowball against me.”  He groaned and cleaned the snow from his head.  “Looks like you win this round.”

_“Giving up already?  How’re you going to earn any respect from your friends?”_

“I’m a fine trainer as it is!” he said.  “Got some badges, got some bounty money, got some friends in high places, and, hell, I even got an assistant type.”

 _“That’s all very precious,”_ she said with leering eyes.   _“But if you’re talking about me, you’re dead wrong.”_

“How could I possibly be wrong?” he asked.  “Any famous and brilliant researcher requires an assistant of sufficient caliber.  You fit the bill to my satisfaction.”

 _“You’re neither famous nor brilliant,”_ she replied.

A battered, beleaguered adventurer, he stumbled over towards Sana, careful to avoid tripping in the snowdrifts.  He exhaled loudly.  “Yet you do not deny your role.”

She was just the opposite, contrasting with graceful, evanescent strides; her every motion gave the impression of being nimble and free.  Once she was next to him, along with a playful shove, she blurted, _“Shuddup!”_

His coat was covered in snow, but the falling snowflakes stuck to her parka as well.  “Sana, it’s not that bad being my assistant.  Just like snowball fights, it’s all about having fun.”  He wobbled slightly, regaining his footing.

To his surprise, she apologized.  _“Sorry for tricking you.”_

“Don’t worry so much,” he said with a short laugh.  “It’s not that big a deal.  I shot first.”

 _“It’s a lot warmer when we’re closer together isn’t it?”_ She rubbed the back of his coat with her hands. 

He acknowledged with a plain “Yeah” in response.  It might have been their body temperatures, it might have been the first law of thermodynamics at work, but right now it was exactly what it felt like: a hug.  All the research, all the science did not matter.  That was an enormous change for the young man.  His perspective had shifted because of Sana.

A snowflake landed against her cheek, instantly melting into a glossy drop of water.  _“Don’t you like it?”_ she asked.

Watching the snowfall on ice-coated eves, he took a few moments to reflect.  Except there was not a whole lot to think about.  “Yes, of course.”

Her elbow nudged his side.  _“I’m happy, Chris.”_

“I’m happy too, Sana,” he said, squeezing her arm.

She flushed involuntarily and squeezed him closer to her.  _“Well, good,”_ she said, brushing the snow out of his hair.  Her hands were very warm.

“Thanks, was a little damp.  Don’t want to get cold.”

With a very stern glare she said rather convincingly, _“Don’t you dare catch a case of the Sneasels.”_

Together they laughed.

Smiling, he gripped her by the hand and said gently, “C’mon, let’s go see the rest of the town.”

 _“Okay.  You lead the way!”_   More agreeable than ever before, Sana seemed keen to their date and courting etiquette, drawing from his memories. 

The pair walked further down the winding path at a relatively slow pace, sharing a union of warm hands and warm hearts.


	2. Part 2: Treasured Hearts

# Part 2: Treasured Hearts

* * *

 

Their steady procession through the snow-covered side roads gradually brought them closer to the heart of the little town in the mountains where they were staying.  Time seemed to slow.  Time spent together felt like time better spent.  Yet neither said a word.

An invisible tension hung in the air.  It grew with each cloudy exhale.  However, a mere handhold kept them both placated.  To any observer it would appear they were a sorely situated couple walking together, sharing a midafternoon stroll through the winter wonderland.  Perhaps they were heading to the general store to pick up some last-minute gifts for the Christmas celebration.  Maybe one of them needed the other to guide, holding hands was rather uncommon between humans and her species.  All of these possibilities were ephemeral thoughts, as evanescent as the while clouds they exhaled.  Between the two of them, their union of hands allowed them to connect to each other’s hearts.  It was their way of sharing something extraordinary special. 

As they progressed, the snowfall gradually begun to dissipate, leaving behind only the crisp scent that follows a cold afternoon.  By the time they entered the town square, decorations on every tree and building caught their eyes.  Tall evergreen trees, buildings covered in snow, all sparkling with dazzling lights, a myriad of beautiful colors.

 _“They’re so pretty!”_ Sana said, excitedly tugging at Chris’ arm.   _“Look at all the pretty colors!”_

“It is really something.  A little town goes all-out!”  He had to pick up his pace to match hers. 

Sana raced towards the tallest of trees, the one with the most lights in the center of the quaint square by a frozen pond.  She extended an arm to try and touch the little incandescent bulbs.  It was a little blue orb, filled with mysterious electrical light.  She held it in her hand and a faint glow emanated from her palm.

_“Look!”_

“Wow.  Is that you?”

 _“I think so,”_ she replied, albeit hesitantly.  _“Colors are very important to me.  Each emotion has a special color, and that’s how I see them.  Usually I see others radiate their feelings, but, sometimes when I’m really feeling something strong, I can see my own too.”_

Mystified by how the aura pervaded in Sana’s palm but also in the miniature bulb, he asked, “What are you feeling then?”

Instead of answering him, she responded with a curious glance and then a question. _“You can see it too?  You’re able to tell?”_

“Yeah, I can.  But how did you?”

 _“You can feel it too, right?”_ she asked again, this time more eagerly.

He brought his hand up to the bulb and felt the faint heat given off by the orb.  Chilled fingers caressed the base of the glass.  Two tiny towers, adjoined by an incandescent thread glowed within.  On the other side of the glass, an opaque hand belonging to Sana.

It was a pleasant sensation, deriving from her, spreading through the lit crystal globe, and into his palm.  Together they held the tiny crystal of light, her emotions flowing outwards for each other to see.

He closed his eyes, trying to take it all in.  What was this feeling?  Her emotions for him?  How could he ever hope to compete with that?  His mind did not know what to say, but the deep silence ached more and more, and eventually he blurted the only thing he considered worth saying.  “I wish I could do this with you for every last one of these little lights, Sana.”

Looking up at the massive tree, she giggled.   _“Well, Chris, THAT would take you a LONG time, wouldn’t it!”_

“I guess it would,” he said complacently, still fondling the orb of light between their hands.  “It would be nice for a long time then.”

Sanaria cooed in agreement under her breath.  _“Sometimes…sometimes I wish we could just…”_

He silently squeezed her hands, which cut her off. 

The light in their hands dimmed. 

Sana closed her eyes in understanding.  _“Not now.  I know.”_

“I’m sorry.”  He really was.  “It shouldn’t have to be this way.”  The urge was far too great, and the consequences as equally dire.  How he longed for her.  The way he tried to extrapolate why they needed to always be together.

Sana looked down, her eyes barely open.  _“Is it because… I’m not a human girl?”_

Her candor struck him in the worst possible way.  The way she seamlessly identified the conundrum and articulated it without so much of a burst of emotion made him resentful.  Her words cut deep into his heart.  Made him wish he could disappear.  Yet he did not let himself drown in self-loathing.  “I would never change who you are,” he said.  “If I did, I’d lose the one I fell for.”

She snapped open her eyes wide.   _“What do you mean?”_

He felt guilty for not telling her.  How could he?  It was nothing she could hope to benefit from knowing.  Yet now that they shared so much together, if he held back she would see his reservations as an affront to the relationship they built.  A bond stained with sacrifice.  The conviction he felt, the will to be genuine with the one he treasured brought him to an internal cleansing of spirit.  Even though he lacked the strength before, now nothing stood in his way but his own fear.  Realizing this caused his convictions to form into action.

“I’ll explain it to you,” he said.  “I will.  I have to, Sana.  Just, not here, not now.”

_“Why?”_

“The people.”  He motioned over his shoulder with a tilt of his head.  “It’s something we should do in private.”

Several people, bundled up in puffy colorful coats, scarves, and hats, were just leaving the frozen pond.  They carried with them their ice skates, laughing and singing songs about the Christmas tree.  Apparently they noticed the two of them huddled under the giant tree.

“Oh, hey!  Look!” said a young woman with a melodic voice, wearing a black and white overcoat with a hood crafted in the likeness of a Pancham.

“Huh?” replied a short boy in a puffy coat that made his young, reddened face look rather small, especially under the knitted olive hat he wore.

“Over by the pretty tree!” said the woman.  “Isn’t that precious!  A trainer is showing her the Christmas Tree.”

“They look happy!” said the little tike.

“Yes,” said the woman, who might have been the boy’s mother or older sister, “it’s Christmastime after all, darling.”

“They’re soooo cool.  I wanna be a trainer too!”

The young woman gave them a friendly wave, then looked back down at her boy and held his mitten. “Okay.  Let’s head back now,” she said.  “We’ll have a nice Christmas dinner together with everyone.  I’ll make it special for you!”

“Yay!” the boy exclaimed, now eager to head home to spend time with his family.

There were a few moments of quietness.  He heard some faint carols being sung in the distance in three-fourths time, much like a waltz.  The haunting melody of dissonance followed, bringing with it a faint sense of lonesomeness.

Sana spoke, breaking the silence. _“They seem like a nice family.”_  

Chris felt a lump in his throat.  He sniffled, the cold air biting at his nose.  His breath felt trapped deep in his chest.  The happy scene had made him sad.  He had no idea what was wrong with himself.  As he and Sanaria held the dim Christmas light, he felt a single tear well up in the corner of his eye.  “Dammit…” he whispered under his breath.

 _“Hey…”_ Sana gripped his hand.  _“They had some nice things to say about us.”_   She always knew exactly what to say.   

“Yeah,” he said, pulling himself together.  It had hit him hard.  He might never have an accepted affection with her as his companion.  “They sure did.”

 _“It’s okay,”_ she insisted.

Dipping his head in grief, he refused to release Sana’s hand.  She was the only one he had left in this world.  The only reason he was even here was because of her.  This world, this life, all of it he owed to her.  How selfish to forget her.  Acceptance did not matter.  If it did, he would surely not be here right now.

Sana gradually let go of the bulb and put her arm around him, pressing her body close against his.  She was warm, even when the temperature was cold enough to transform a Castform.

“Thanks,” he said holding her.  He yearned for more, but he knew this was not the place. 

She squeezed him round the waist before letting go.  _“Let’s head back.  You can tell me about Christmas on the way.”_

He started walking, closer to her than before.  “Okay.”

_“So, what does Christmastime mean to you?  Why’s it special?  Why does it feel so magical?”_

“Well it’s…”  Pausing, he said, “I know it’s a holiday, but I have a difficult time explaining the whole magical thing actually.”

 _“You do?”_   Then Sana laughed victoriously.  _“Could it be?  Has the self-proclaimed famous researcher been stumped?”_

“No way,” he lied.  “Was always just this holiday that came and went.  I’d get presents from my father.  It was nice.”

 _“You got presents?!”_ she exclaimed.  _“Huh.  You weren’t always bad I guess.”_

His cold lips formed a nostalgic smile.  “Yeah.  Could say that.”

_“Hey, so, what kinds of presents?”_

“Well, usually something cool from Silph Co.  That’s where he worked after all.  Pokéball holsters, rare technical machines, prototype Pokéballs, even the most up-to-date graphic encyclopedias.  Then one year I got a storybook from my aunt in Orre.  I remember reading it so late at night under the covers with a flashlight in hand.”

Sana asked, _“What was it about?”_

“An adventure about friends on exciting journeys with their Pokémon.  Some were treasure hunters, others martial artists, there was even an investigator and a little girl.  Despite their differences, they all could rely on their friends, and that was what made them strong enough to stand up to anything.  You could say it gave me the idea to go adventuring myself.  But so much for a journey being a piece of cake.”

 _“Our adventure sure has been filled with challenges.”_   Sana chuckled nervously.   _“More than a few close calls!”_

“We’re lucky to be alive.”  Truer words had never been spoken.  But he did not want to focus on their peril.  “I’d like to write a few of my own stories one day.”

 _“What about me?”_   Spiritedly, she ruffled his hair with her free hand.  _“That sounds terrible!”_

“Shucks.  It’s not like it’d be interesting without my assistant!”

She groaned, belabored by his insisting she was a mere subordinate.  _“And how do you think you’re going to remember anything without me?”_

“You do have that going for you,” he acknowledged.

_“One day, you’ll be able to remember everything on your own.  Then you won’t need me to tell you.  Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”_

“It would be.”  It hurt to lie to her.  But what else could he do?

Sensing his strain, she insisted, _“I’m sure you’ll get there eventually.”_

Coldness crept back into his heart, reminding him of the truth.  A truth she needed to understand to really be with him.  Her innocence made everything uneasy.  And so, he decided to disclose to her a revelation he had, a genuine realization.  “The only thing I’ll have is you, Sana.  Even once I have all my memories back.”

At first, she seemed a little taken aback.  Her hand cramped up around his in thinly-veiled nervousness.  _“I’ll have you too, Chris,”_ she replied.  The sheer thought of being alone proved to be daunting, frightening for her.  She had already lost so much.

“About my memories…”

She tilted her head.

“—Never mind.”

Sana huffed.  _“I can read your heart,”_ she said.  _“You’ve got something you’re not telling me.”_

“Right.”

The she growled, clearly frustrated.  _“We’ll need each other,”_ she said.

He took his other hand out from his pocket and placed his arm around her.  Her parka’s hood had fallen off again.  Her back was warm to the touch, radiating even, from her heart crystal.

She hummed softly, her breaths forming small clouds, tiny globes in which the snowflakes fell through.  _“Oh,”_ she said, lackadaisically responding to his advance. 

They were far enough on the road to evade any unwanted attention from the town square.  Above, on ice-covered street posts, orange lights illuminated the frosted landscape, casting long shadows over drifts and banks.  Shadows changed and morphed the landscape with every step they took together.  The distant smell of smoke mixed with the crisp winter air.

He squeezed her shoulder affectionately and she purred in response, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

The walked for a few minutes in muffled crunching before she asked, _“So every Christmas you got presents?”_

He shook his head.  “Not the year mom died.  There wasn’t any Christmas that year.”

 _“Oh.”_   Sorrow she understood.

“It’s alright.”

Using her psychokinesis, she flipped her hood back over her hair. _“I haven’t gotten over a lot of things,”_ she said from underneath the fluffiness.

He nudged her side. “You’re tougher than you look.”

 _“Is that supposed to be an insult?”_ she asked.

“Nah.  I want to be strong too.  You’ve already got that inner strength.  Mine’s not refined,” he admitted.

 _“You already are strong!”_ Sana pointed to his chest.

“This?  My heart?”  He laughed weakly.  “I can’t even tell you.  No.  My heart’s weak.”

_“A heart isn’t a physical organ.”_

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 _“It’s more than that,”_ she explained.  _“It’s how you perceive the world around you.  How you make reality into your story and those you care about a part of it.  When I’m feeling down, I always remember: I carry the feelings of my family and friends with me.”_

“That’s…true,” he replied in a feeble rapture.

While she stroked his torso, she said gently, _“You always had the capability.  Don’t you feel it too?”_

“I do.  But I’ve been alone for a long time.”  His voice lowered.  “I grew cold.”

She pushed her head against his shoulder and slowed their pace. _“Were you always alone for Christmas?”_

“No.  That’s the worst part.  It was taken away from me.  I had a family.  I had friends.  It all went away.”

_“Well, then you have to make a new one!”_

“A new what?  Family?”  Incredulously, he huffed a cloud of mist which quickly evaporated.

_“Why not?  If it makes you happy.”_

He looked up at the wintery sky.  Some of the clouds were parting.  He could make out the Huntsman’s Belt, a collection of three bright stars in a wintertime constellation.  “Sana, if you asked me a while ago, I would’ve told you material things make everyone happy.  The whole reason I wanted to go badge collecting and help Professor Oak out with his Pokédex project was to become well-renowned as a researcher.  I wanted my old life back.  I wanted to be able to remember.  Regain my potential.”

Sana remained as silent as the snow-covered streets.

“As foolish and selfish as I was,” he said, dragging his feet slightly in the snow.  “The only remedy I could fathom was a return to my prior life.  And you know, for a while, I’m sure that would have sufficed.”

_“It would?”_

“I’m sure it would have.”  He took a deep breath.  “Because I could not remember.”

She did not seem to get it at first, but then it clicked.  _“Wait, you said you couldn’t remember.”_

“Looks like I couldn’t hide that from you.”

 _“Wait!  So you…!”_   Her excited push nearly knocked him over.  _“Why didn’t you say something?!”_

“I don’t know how to say this, I’m sorry.”

_“Try to.  I’m listening.”_

“Sanaria, if I hadn’t met you—”

She stopped.  He followed suit.  Her eyes traced his face’s bottled emotions. 

“—I wouldn’t know any better,” he said.

In confusion, she tilted her head.

“What I’m trying to say is this: Sana, you are the key to my memories.  Being with you changed me.  Made me a better person.”

 _“A better person?”_ she asked.  _“But I didn’t—”_

“You did.  I owe so much to you.”  He closed his hands into fists of frustration.  “I never had enough strength to say it!”

_“You don’t have to feel obligated—”_

“No, that’s not it.  It’s just that I…love what we have.”

 _“You…love…?”_ she repeated.  It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Rather than let embarrassment take over, he doubled-down.  “Yeah.  Does that sound weird to you?”

Her eudemonic tone spoke volumes.  _“No!  Not at all.  I feel the same way.  You know I do, don’t you?  You can feel that I feel this way?  Right?”_

He didn’t expect her to suddenly barrage him with questions.  His response got caught in his throat.  Therefore he did the next best thing and nodded.

 _“Oh, Chris!”_ she exclaimed, gripping him tightly and drawing close.  _“You really mean that?!”_

With her face right beside his, he stared deeply into her cherry eyes and said, “I mean it, Sana.”

He pressed his forehead against hers.  The warm ear cartilage on the sides of her face tickled him; they were soft and delicate even in the frigid weather.  Reaching behind her neck, his forearm graced her milky green hair.  It was softer than silk, thick, and always filled with the scent of tropical flowers.  And then in a final motion, he kissed her lips. 

She jolted in response, tightly pulling on his jacket from behind.  The snow spinning around, dancing on their skin as they brought their bodies together brought numerous other feelings to surface.  It was like being lost together with her in a snow globe, filled to the brim with spiraling snowfall, mystifying and beautiful. 

The tenderness of her mouth, the taste of her, hardly managed to prevent them from falling into a passionate kiss.  It was sweet, reminding him of crisp rose blossoms; and her lips were as tender as such a flower’s petals.  He yearned for more.  The aroma of the distant tropics, the land of her origin, flooded his senses with notes of ripe hibiscus and creamy coconut.  He felt her arms trace his back as their lips broke after the brief, but mind-numbingly sensitive, contact.

Her eyes were still closed.  She cooed an entranced _“This…this is wonderful”_ as their kiss broke.

Yet the lingering sensation, the desire, and passion all remained.  It was not stronger than ever.  He pinched his lips inward, they felt dreadfully cold and empty.  “I know, but someone will see us out here,” he said.

Having been so close, she sensed his suppressed urges more than before.  _“I…know; it’s your human instincts.”_

“Thanks,” he said, catching his breath.  His heart was pounding from the sensation, and he felt an acute lightheadedness.  “Just not right here.  Not right now.”

 Not wanting to make it more difficult for the young man, she lowered her head, pressing her cheek into his shoulder and asked wistfully, _“Later?”_

He exhaled.  “Later.”  Chris gave her head a rub. 

She clutched onto his arm.  Together their hands frolicked for a few seconds, as thoughts and emotions were conveyed through the sense of shared touch.  _“I really want to be with you.”_

“Right, too the lodge, we’re almost there.”

They walked closer than ever, as the wind picked up, howling up the mountainside, blowing cascades of snow all around them.

* * *

 _“So why is Christmas magical?”_ Sana asked as the lodge came within sight.

Chris had other things on his mind, and had completely forgotten.  “Ah…I never answered your question.”

She murmured, _“You told me what stories people tell, you told me what people do, but you haven’t told me why it’s at all special.”_

He felt unqualified to adequately answer the question, but how could he not at least try for her sake?  “Christmas,” he said, “is a time of year when we celebrate love.”

 _“Love?”_ she repeated, her core glowing warmly.

“Yes,” he said decisively.  “We celebrate love.”

_“I see.  Love is the strongest of all emotions.”_

“Through appreciating grace.  Grace that allows for us to share even a tiny bit of life together.  No matter how small that time might be, it exists to be shared.  And when it’s shared, it’ll create memories that last a lifetime.”  He ran a hand through her hair as she walked, huddled next to him.  When she did, all the cold frost was replaced by warmth.  “I’ve never… No, I forgot how to—”

 _“—But you remember it again?”_ she interrupted.

“I told you I would explain it,” he said walking up to the door.  “This is different from remembering.  It’s the first half actually.  This is us making a memory together.”

_“Making a memory...together…?”_

Opening the door for her he mused.  “Perhaps that’s why Christmas has lasted all these years.”

Rather than hurry inside, she remained fixated on him.  _“It has?”_

He felt weary, the whole decision had really worn on him, but this is what he wanted in the end.  “Oh, yes.  Year after year, Sana.”

 _“I want to be able to remember this,”_ she said resolutely.

“We will.  And then next Christmas, we’ll think about this first time.  And same with the net, and the next, until…”  His voice trailed off.  There was a lump in his throat.  Something he had remembered shook him to his core.

_“I never want to forget.”_

“Me neither.  More than anything else, I don’t want to forget.”  The wind blew even harder, and he gestured.  “C’mon, no sense standing here on the doorstep, gotta choose a side.  In or out.”

 _“In!”_ she said playfully dashing inside.

“Glad I chose the same thing as you,” he mumbled as the door slammed shut loudly behind from the wind.

Sana quickly occupied herself by the small fir tree inside, alit with lights, shiny ornaments, and laced with garland.  She twirled around it, taking off her snow-covered parka and tossing it roughly.  It landed perfectly on a hook thanks to her psychokinesis.

Feeling less than fond of silence, Chris placed a record on an old turntable.  The instrumental music of the season played through the dust coated amplifiers.

 _“This music!  I like it!”_ Sana pranced over to him.

Unsure if she was going for another hug, he decided to pull her by the hand, quickly bringing her to the center of the room and twirling her in his arms.

 _“I didn’t know you knew how to dance!”_ she exclaimed.

“Naturally, I…—” His foot miss-stepped on her gown.  A crash, he found himself awkwardly down on his knee.  “—Don’t.”

Tugging her dress, Sana tried not to laugh.  _“Is my gown too long?”_

“I’m not an expert,” he said, raising his head to her hip as he started to stand up.

Still holding his hand, she insisted, _“I can make it shorter.”_

“You can?” he started to say, but by the time the words had left his lips, she had already begun her magic.

 _“See?”_ said Sana, twirling a new, slighter skirt.  _“Simple folding.”_

Staring in awe at her waist, he mumbled, “You never cease to impress.”

 _“C’mon.”_   With a wink, she pulled him up, bringing him closer to her body in the process. _“An assistant’s gotta be adaptable.  Even if her partner can’t coordinate his own legs.”_

“Wait, did you just—!”

 _“Shh!”_   She hushed his mouth with her hand.  _“The music is playing.”_

And so, he clumsily continued to dance with her through the rest of the song, bumping her legs a few times.

Upon hearing the song’s cathartic ending, Sana asked with a bright expression, _“Chris?”_

“Yeah?”

The soft melody of the record in the background returned as the needle shifted to the next track.

_“Do we give each other presents too?”_

He laughed, patting her on the head.  “It’s not beyond the realm of possibilities!  In fact, if my eyes don’t deceive me, there’s a present there under the tree.  Why don’t you unwrap it?”

As she turned, her mouth dropped in surprise.  _“Where did that come from!?  It wasn’t here before.”_

Leaning back on the side of a tall wooden bookshelf with arms satisfyingly crossed, he smiled.  “Sometimes, there’s a bit of magic that comes with Christmas.”

Sana darted over to the present.  Her skips levitating her a few inches off the floor near the end.  She excitedly bent down to pick up the wrapped box.  With a thrilled dance, she spun around, billowing her skirt out like a tutu.  Then she extended her hand out to him.

“Hmm?  Need something?”

_“Come here!  I want to open it with you!”_

“Oh, okay, sure.”

When he stood next to her, she leaned in and planted a small peck on his cheek.  _“Thank you!”_

His blood felt hot, everything around him was so warm, but especially her.  “You haven’t even opened it yet!” he said, red from blushing.

 _“I’m so happy!”_ she exclaimed.  _“You got me a present for Christmas!”_

“Sheesh, it was nothing to sneak that by you,” he said sarcastically. 

 _“You’re all red,”_ she teased.

He growled.  “That’s…  I’m just cold from being outside.  Tell you what, I’m gonna light a fire.”  Kneeling down by the old fireplace, he placed some recently chopped logs from the nearby iron basket.  With his West family lighter, he lit the tinder and proudly sat back as the flames began to crackle at the firewood. 

 _“Ooooh!”_  Sana squealed as the fire roared to life.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at her suspiciously.  She was still holding the wrapped gift close against her heart.  With a tired sigh, he plopped down on the couch next to the fireplace and said, “C’mon, don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

Sana pranced closer to the fireplace, sitting down next to him, then crossing her legs neatly as she leaned against him.  The aura of joy from Sana rivaled the heat of the fire.  As far as he could tell from the soft shadows of the flames, she was flushing as well.  _“So this is close and cozy!”_

She inspected the box and placed it in her lap.   _“What should I do next?  Mindread you?  Telekinetically skin it, or—?”_

“What the—?”  Caught off-guard by her, he shook his head.  “No, no.  Use your hands, you goof.  That’s what makes it fun.”

_“It sounds…inelegant.  You took such a long time to wrap it up so neatly.”_

“I didn’t wrap it up for you to look at!” he said, nudging her with an elbow.  “Go on, tear it up like crazy.”

Wrapping one of her hands around the arm he had prodded her with, Sana gleefully said, _“Okay, here I go.”_

It didn’t take her long to fumble with the paper.  With a loud tear, her fingers tore off the main face of the boxed gift.  As she finished tearing off the wrapping, he said, “Merry Christmas!”

 _“What is this?”_ she asked, pressing her hands through the box curiously.  Trembling with uncertainty, her hands pulled out a soft string attached to two cups.  She must have seen it before, or his thoughts gave it away.  Her face turned bright red.  _“This is…!  You want me to wear this?!”_  

“It’s part of a set,” he said.

 _“OF UNDERWEAR?”_ she yelled in shock.

“It’s island-wear actually,” he replied, trying not to laugh at her astonished reaction.

She reached back into the box, holding the bra by its raffia tie closures.  There was a leafy skirt inside.  She removed it with a rustle and looked seriously confused.  _“W-what?  A skirt made of grass?  How can I wear this in the cold?”_

“We’re not staying in the cold,” he finally explained.  “You and me are leaving on the first bird outta here after New Year’s and headin’ to the tropics.”

 _“The tropics!”_   Her eyes widened in thoughts of her home.  _“Where the sand is warm, the sea is pure, and the flowers are big, bright, and beautiful?”_

“Yes.  Alola.  That’s where we’ll go.  I managed to secure a research job there.  It’s far enough away from everything.  Things might start to turn ugly if we stay around here.”  His mind ached with worry, his thoughts of the future were fraught with anxiety.  Being unable to come clean and tell her made it all the worse. 

_“What do you mean?  Because of our relationship?”_

“It will always be a taboo if people don’t understand it.  Many won’t bother to, but that’s not what upsets me.  I don’t feel shame because of us.  However, the threat of war is not something we can simply avoid as with prejudice.”

She made a frightened noise.  _“War?”_

He decided to tell her.  “I saw a conflict, Sana.  A war unlike any other scar the entire world.  The end of the world.  Brought me to my knees when I realized how powerless I was in the face of legendary beings.  Even after the choice I made, no, BECAUSE of the choice I made, I can’t be sure when or if any of it will happen.  Sana, I can’t be sure of anything but us.  The future is an open book once more, its destiny can no longer be predicted.  It’s our story now.  If that’s all okay with you, I want it to be with you.”

She clumsily tumbled over the box and wrappings and held him close by wrapping her arms around his shoulders.  _“This is all for real?”_ she said, her entire body shivering in a mixture of excitement and nervousness.  _“You aren’t making it up?”_

He firmly placed his hand on the back of her neck, behind her hair, where it felt warm.  “I won’t ever lie to you again.  That’s precisely the reason why I’m here,” he said faintly.  His words trailed off into a forest of deep thought, but he quickly pulled himself out from the trance of introspection.

 _“You made a promise,”_ she said, inhaling softly.  Her body quivered in his arms.  _“To never leave.  I think I’m starting to understand it from your feelings.  This is how you meant to fulfill it.”_

“Yeah.  This was the only way.  I didn’t realize it.  I couldn’t have known at the time.  It was when I made that final wish.”

_“Oh?”_

Feeling a pang of guilt deep in his gut, he said, “You were not there when I did.”

Her shoulders slumped.  Sana tried to make eye-contact, however his gaze remained fixed on the crackling flames in the fireplace.

“But you’re here now,” he said in a somber voice, raspy with the heaviness of his decision.  “And that’s what matters most.  It’s the only thing that really matters in this world.”

She pressed her heart close to his.  He knew what she was doing.  It was futile to resist her method of extracting information at this proximity.  And so, he let her.  He emptied his whole heart out to her.  The entirety of his decision.  Its meaning.  Its implications.  Every last heart-wrenching sensation he shared with her.

It did not take very long.  She began to breathe quickly, then simper in short bursts as she realized what had happened.  Again and again she gasped for air, as each sensation passed through her of the tribulations they had faced and forgotten about. 

He felt a particularly nasty sting in his chest when she read the last bit.  And then a crushing weight of responsibility when she came to the revelation, as he once did, about the world they had set loose and the consequences it carried.  Because he failed, he could not forget.  But now, Sana shared the burden.  Their forbidden relationship, a testament to the best and worst it could bring.

There was silence.  An uncomfortable stillness filled the room as she came to terms with it all.  Finally, the quietness broke.

_“Are you sure… this is what you wanted?”_

Wordlessly he nodded, his weary eyes transfixed on the flames in the hearth.

 _“The wish, the one you chose not to become part of.  Why!”_ Sana exclaimed, clearly on the verge of tears.  _“Why didn’t you—?”_

“It was too cruel,” he said.  There was a mature gravity in his voice.  He spoke with the insipid wisdom of a young man who had realized the weakness of the mortal spirit.  Having seen the hubris of ambition through a cycle of life and death, the utter futility of the Time Guardian, he had the gall to deny fate, to spit in its eye.  That was the reason why he was here forever.  “Maybe someone with a stronger will could wish it all back, but not me.”

Sana was dumbfounded.  She pulled at his collar, her chest heaving as she put the pieces into place.   _“You had a chance to save it… save her.  Most of all, you could have stopped the—!”_

“No, Sana.  I made my choice, like countless others.”  He looked down and the ground, then at her.  “I couldn’t make that choice if it meant—”

_“You weren’t supposed to do this!  We weren’t supposed to be like this!  You were supposed to have—!”_

He put his hands on her shoulders to try and calm her.  “Listen to me.  Please, Sana.  When I woke up, I heard your voice outside.  I recognized you immediately.  There was no doubt in my mind.  That’s when I knew: I let myself fail, so we could be together.”

She shook her head in disbelief.  _“It isn’t fair!  You changed our lives, forever.  And with this…”_   She pointed at her core.  _“I’ll never…”_

“You’re the one I chose, Sana.  The wish, it saw through my heart, and you were the one there.  I can’t explain to you any of it.  I don’t understand it.  I don’t know what will happen next.  But what I do understand is I want to be with you more than anything else.”

She began to cry openly.  _“I’m not her.  I’ll never be—”_

“—I’ll never be human either,” he said, finishing her thoughts. 

She sobbed, weakly falling into his arms.  _“I want to hate you,”_ she whimpered.  _“Chris!  How could you be so…so… callous?!  I want to punch you!”_

“Go ahead.  If it will make you feel better.”

 _“Huh?”_   She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.  _“You’re different.  You don’t care?”_

“I care more than I ever had in the past.  That’s why I’m being sincere with you.  There’s no going back.  This is permanent.  You can hate me if you must.  I had no right to do this to you, and I did it anyway.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Sana.”  Hugging, he squeezed her tightly.  “I just hope, somehow you’ll be able to live again.”

Continuing to sob, her body shivered in his arms.  Patiently, he held her as she let it all out.  There was nothing left for him to say.  No more secrets between them, and no going back.  He knew this, and that it was the only way for him to gain her genuine affection.  That is why he took the chance.  That was why he was with her, because Sana meant more than anything else the infinite universe could offer.

 _“There’s one condition,”_ she said.  _“It’s non-negotiable.”_

He waited for her to chastise him, to ridicule his weakness during a time when duty should have overcome all desire.  Feeling the weight of the world creep over him, he fought to ward it off from crushing his already withered soul.

She spoke sternly.  _“And that is: You’ll never leave my side.”_

A moment passed.  Then another.  Only the spontaneous sounds of the crackling fire confirmed time had been passing.   

“That’s all?” he asked expecting more.

She glared icily at him.  _“Promise.”_

His stiff posture relaxed, and he squeezed her close.  “Promise.”

Raising her hand, she traced the profile of his jawline.  They shared another kiss, this one much deeper and more sensual as their bodies connected.  Exploring each other, their passionate and tender joining together continued unabated.  When they finally broke, her soft voice explained, _“I didn’t get you anything.”_

“No.  You did.  I have everything right here.  Sana, this is what I wanted.  I’d go through it all again and again to be with you.  No matter what.  Because this is love, and love is —”

In[FIN]ite


End file.
